


Out for Tea

by evek



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evek/pseuds/evek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Thorin is a CEO, Bilbo an intern, a very cute and distracting intern. The two have worked in the same office building for 6 years, and Thorin is sexually frustrated because Bilbo obliviously flirts with Thorin, not even realizing the effect he is having on the older man. So, after one meeting, Thorin has had enough and bends Bilbo over the desk and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out for Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from Eve!
> 
> Fionn tries a hand at porn. (how that sentence came out though)  
> It is Fionn's first time.  
> Fionn is feeling like he offering his soul to the masses.  
> This is Fionn.  
> Hi.  
> ffr don't let me write notes.

Funnily enough, what first caught Bilbo's attention when concerning Thorin wasn't attractive at all. The shaggy-haired man had been working at the office some six years, from the start of community college up till his last year of university, and because it was fairly well-known around the cubicles that housed sleep-deprived editors and writers. His first debut to the newspaper workers and the boss was made in coffee, and he never missed his mark of delivering it, nor placing a steaming cup on Thorin's desk a minute before the tall other, and late in the evening when he was doing his routine smoking break on the balcony. Thus, though he was never seen in his comings and goings by Thorin, his mark was made well enough in the hot brew that was his boss's coffee - always black, with only a single packet of sugar. However, this of course wasn't what first drew his eyes to Thorin, as he hadn't even seen the elusive man yet.

Bilbo's second scrawling of his presence was in being given another job of being the handy guy who dropped off revisions and memos to the desks, all in quiet steps that caused folders to be handed over as if falling from the sky. It was then when he began to talk to the others in his pleasant voice and straightforward manners, and it was also around this time when he also made several friends: Bofur, who was impossible not to like, Ori, the kid fresh out of secondary school (it was a mystery to Bilbo about how he got the job, until one day he went ahead and looked over his shoulder to see what bloody fantastic writing he did), Balin, the secretary, and two rascals who were only in the office by leave of their uncle, who happened to be the boss himself. They occasionally ran errands from the office to the press, but for the most part they managed the main website for the paper; and it was them who led Bilbo to have his first look at Thorin Durin.

"You haven't seen him yet?" Fili had exclaimed, as if completely flabbergasted. Kili himself hadn't lifted his jaw to ask the same question, as it nearly touched the ground. "But you've been working here for a year! A year and a half, actually!"

"So?" Bilbo replied distractedly, shuffling his things in his arms. He didn't really think it mattered, and he honestly thought it was best as such. "Look, I've got to go home and study. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Christ, you're joking," Fili uttered. Then the brothers looked at each other, and Bilbo always swore that they had some sort of sibling telepathic connection, because an instant later they both grabbed him by either arm and proceeded to haul him to their uncle's office. Not halfway there Bilbo shrugged them off and said that he could walk just fine himself, thank you, and there was a before unknown curiosity that he felt as he stepped through the doorway he went in and out of a hundred times before.

Behind the desk was someone that Bilbo wouldn't have expected at all. Much younger, and a little more scruffy at that, but it was actually a pleasant surprise. Mr. Durin's head was topped in short hair, though it held the tell-tale shapes of waviness, his beard was quite there but not unkempt; he was quite obviously tall despite the fact that he was sitting, and when Bilbo drew closer, the short university student realized that his boss had chapped lips. Not that it lessened his attractiveness, but for some reason or another that was what first caught his attention.

This certainly wasn't the man Bilbo had pictured him to be. And the chapped lips, well, they could be easily fixed. His mind, ever the quick working thing, proposed several options to remedy the situation right then and there, and all of them were quickly discarded as utterly inappropriate.

"Who is this?" Thorin asked in a surprisingly deep, resonating voice, and straight away his two nephews began to laugh.

"Bilbo Baggins, Mr. Durin," Bilbo said, and cast an annoyed glance at the two others who flanked him, as their muffled giggles under hands that grasped at their red faces were becoming superfluous. Then, quite rather matter-of-factly, he added, "the one who has been making the coffee and passing the memos for the past year?" It was starting to settle as unbelievable that they'd never met before now that they were actually meeting, and he wondered why he'd never thought about it before. Bilbo couldn't help but feel a little grumpy about how his boss didn't realize that he even existed until now.

However, Thorin didn't look grumpy at all. Instead his face stilled and his eyes widened, apparently flustered, before saying, "Baggins." Nothing else, no apologies, just his name.

Bilbo crossed his arms. "That'd be me."

Mr. Durin opened his mouth again, as if to say something, but only a small "ah" escaped from his lips. Chapped lips. And all of those entirely unprofessional thoughts came pouring down into his mind once again. Bilbo excused with a it was a pleasure having met you before going back home, not sure what to feel all the way there.

* * *

Of course, Dwalin eventually found the lost lip balm near one of the water dispensers, so that initial reason for indecent thought dissipated for Bilbo. However, it was quickly replaced with the better traits of his boss: his physique, of course, but more so how he'd hum at his papers while working, the noises he'd make when he stretched, and how he was perhaps the easiest person to catch off guard, if one did the right things. Half of the time Bilbo couldn't figure out what those things were, but when he began picking up on it, at the worst of times Thorin's reactions would draw an impiously mischievous side out from him. A year of interactions soon fell from what Bilbo intended to be a purely business-like relations to subtle words of suggesting meanings, and even when Thorin went as far as asking the young man to go out for coffee, he was politely turned down, and the whole office chuckled at their boss's misfortune.

"Poor lad has probably never been turned down in his life," Balin said as he passed the new edits to Bilbo from his desk. Bilbo only grunted and flipped trough the folders.

"I'm not very fond of coffee; I prefer tea much more."

The white-haired man smiled, and lowered his glasses down a bit over his crooked nose to look at him. "That may just be, but perhaps you could stand being more gentle with him."

Bilbo nearly snorted. "Gentle?"

Gloin, who was carrying a stack of papers in his arms and was making his way down the hall, leaned in as he walked to offer input. "Less provocative, he means."

"Provocative?" Baggins echoed, furrowing his brow in a confused manner as he watched Gloin continue down into the nest of cubicles. Then he turned back to Balin, who returned the stare with an expression that quite blatantly said, please. As if Bilbo didn't know.

Not a week later, Bilbo found himself being asked out for tea. To that he declined as well, partly from trying to prove the point that some things that are said in conversations are not meant to be repeated to that who the conversation was about, and partly from simply not having the time, as he had mid-terms that week and was even thinking of taking some time off of the job to study. Though there were both the amused and unamused in the cubicles about this whole affair, there was a pair that particularly got a kick out of the whole situation, and those two would have been Fili and Kili.

If there was ever a trait that Bilbo drew from the brothers - especially from Kili - it was mischief. And sadly, all of it when at work seemed to revolve around Thorin, like a swarm of flies that one just can't get away from. At times their jokes were clever, and sometimes they were downright childish, but Bilbo was half inclined to believe that they were up to something when they suddenly cast down upon him mountains of paperwork.

"I'm sorry, but it just has to get finished. And anyways, you know what to do with it all," Fili said with a small smirk. Bilbo had been called to their shared cubicle, which happened to be completely plastered with pictures of women and swords, and he stood with a frown on his face that remained unnoticed. "Looks like you'll have to stay late for a while."

And as a matter of fact, Kili said the same thing the next night before he was going to leave. He dropped by Bilbo's cubicle - his last year of working there earned him as much, as well as an actual salary that went beyond the normal nonexistent amount that internship gave, thank God - and chuckled a bit, wearing a cheeky grin on his face. "Here, I couldn't find anyone else to dump these on. Looks like you'll have to stay here late for a while, ey?" And he proceeded to drop a few more stacks of papers to file and fill out before going on his way, and Bilbo dropped his forehead against his table.

At least there's no tests coming up, he figured. It being his last year of university, Bilbo felt like he was lightly treading on a line between success and failure, but that may have just been his nerves springing. After his last encounter with Thorin, who seemed to completely and utterly vacate from his path with nothing but a glance, he wasn't sure about how long he should hold onto this job before moving on to something that actually paid a decent amount. Not that he was complaining about a salary that in all situations shouldn't exist, but still. There was six years of working there to consider, but also the stand-still that his live had taken when related to everything else but school, which was moving much too fast.

However, with a smirk, he reminded himself of its perks, one of the top ones being a boss who would instantly flush at the slightest innuendo, or would stare like a boy in a toy shop when Bilbo walked past and caught the gaze in a window. After years of slowly realizing the effect, he'd up the cause once and a while just for the sake of reminding himself of what had first caught his attention - a pair of lips, that when provoked, would be carnivorously licked by a fleshy tongue.

"Bilbo!" Baggins heard the next day, and he looked up, still blurry-eyed from his late stay at the office the night before. Bofur was standing at the entrance to his cubicle, and he gave a little wave. "I have got these tickets, but Bombur is busy this weekend, and Bifur is-" he cut short, and his eyebrows knitted together. "I'm not quite sure where Bifur is, actually."

"I think he's in the janitor's closet again," Kili said, who was passing down the aisle.

"Kili, what are all of these papers you and Fili gave to me? They're about a decade old, and-!" but he went unheard by the other, so Bilbo only settled back into his chair with a crabby expression on his face. However, Bofur was still there, so he pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, "tickets for what, exactly?"

"Crochet, at Leeman's Park. It looks awfully nice."

Bilbo looked at him with a scrutinizing expression, not quite sure what he was getting at. "Do you mean Croquet?" His eyes didn't miss Thorin approach and turn to the cubicle across from his, quite within earshot.

"Yes! and a wonderful game it is, if you've got the balls for it." It was said very matter-of-factly, but Bilbo felt half inclined to laugh. Mr. Durin also turned his head just a bit, only curious. But the curly-haired man, bare feet crossing under his chair, looked back and answered, "I've got enough balls for croquet, and more, I'd reckon."

Bofur only laughed, finally realizing what he'd said, but Thorin instantly swallowed, looked down, and licked his lips before turning back at the person he'd been talking to.

"Yes, I'd be glad to go."

* * *

 

Later on when everyone in the office had gone home, Bilbo found himself for the second time in a row at his desk, shuffling around papers and wishing that he had a cup of tea at his side. Or anything, really. A warm glass of milk, some sweetbread, maybe a nice slice of pie...

"Baggins."

Bilbo nearly jumped, and he turned about in his swivel chair, jolted by the voice of his boss. It was distant, sure, but plain and clear all the same, and he thought, but I was sure that everyone was gone? However, apparently he was mistaken, so he ducked under his table to slip on his socks and shoes before getting up. From there he walked along down the aisle and to the end of the room where Thorin's office door was. Now, Bilbo wasn't quite sure why, but there was a tense quiet that halted his hand atop the door knob, and he stood there for a long moment. Hadn't Thorin left? He was sure that the man had, and now that he stood there, he didn't hear clicking at a keyboard, or a movement of papers.

Either way, there was no harm in opening the door, so Bilbo mused.

Unlike the main work office where the lights on the ceilings were on and buzzing, Mr. Durin's office was less lit, with only a yellowed lamp at the corner of the room on. All of the curtains were drawn. Feeling rather hesitant, he continued to quietly open the door until the desk came into view. Who was seated there was none other than Thorin, face pressed to its surface as if he was asleep. Which in fact Bilbo did figure, until his boss moved to press his forehead against the wood, and an arm that was hid under the desk gave a jerk, causing the man to shudder. Suddenly the intern's eyes noticed the rise and falls of Thorin's back, his chest pressed up against the table, the slight movement of his shoulder bouncing until the disheveled man drew a sharp breath and rested his head down once more.

Bilbo swallowed thickly a downpour of embarrassment and arousal hitting him at once, and in his shock he watched for a few moments longer with a blank mind befor hurrying to crack the door and tip-toe away. Soon enough he made it back to his desk, grabbing at his papers with suddenly clumsy hands and definitely not thinking of palming himself through his trousers.

If there was any awkwardness to be had the next day, it was only on Bilbo's part, as everyone was unaware of what had happened the night before, and the intern made sure to leave soon after his unnoticed intrusion so that he'd not be discovered by Thorin. Nonetheless, it didn't help his nerves when he realized that he was in for another late night at the office - or several, if he was being honest with himself. So when the early winter evening began to fall through the windows in a glow of waning light and the others began to leave, Bilbo remained at his desk and continued on in his labor. Fully aware of the fact that Thorin had not left as well, which made him feel less inclined to stay, lest his boss should discover that his intern was here, and has been since two nights before.

It was inevitable though, really.

Thorin approached from his office much like a hibernating bear might, being large in mass and somewhat wincing under the bright scours of the main room's lights. Bilbo could see him fairly clear through his cubicle entrance, and halted his typing, halted everything, and his breath fell purposefully silent for a reason that even he couldn't explain. Two watching eyes watched the taller other rub his face a bit in a display of lethargy before he made his way to the coffee machine out of sight. Bilbo let out a breath of held air, and in the act of swiveling back to his papers his chair squeaked, and he nearly jumped - as did Thorin, apparently, as there was a clatter that sounded through the room.

Flustered, and quite annoyed with himself, Bilbo finally huffed and continued typing, not seeing Thorin's head peak into the aisle and rest on his back. Feeling the gaze was a different matter entirely, as Baggins did exactly that, and with a small acknowledgment of his failure to remain on the down-low, he turned his head and sent a "hello" down the office path.

What came as a reply was a nearly owlish blink, and a dull "hello" back.

Bilbo pulled a strained smile.

Right then Thorin seemed to collect himself. He straightened out a bit more, his eyes caught more focus, and his voice was definitely back in its full depth when he added, "would you like some coffee?"

Instantly, the blonde-haired man remembered the incident a few years before, when he was asked out for coffee and he'd declined. "Ah, no, thank you. Coffee doesn't settle well with me."

"Staying late, then," Thorin observed, mostly to himself, and Bilbo nodded. The exchange didn't last much longer, but when it had ended and Thorin retreated back to the coffee maker he instantly remembered the incident with the coffee and tea, and nearly kicked himself in embarrassment.

Not that Bilbo knew. Even if someone outright said to him that Thorin was interested in him, and had been for a remarkably long time, he would have discarded it as nonsense. Instead, the next night he remained at his desk and worked more easily than the night before, as he'd already been discovered. He was organizing bank statements of impeccable status - he applauded Balin's management, really - when yet again Thorin emerged from his office, blinked what Bilbo figured as sleep from his eyes, and looked down the aisle into Bilbo's cubicle. "Hello," Thorin said, yet again, and Bilbo pipped a polite "hullo!" back in return.

"It seems as if you've got quite the load of work," his boss said, and Bilbo shrugged.

"Probably not half as much as yours."

Thorin looked distractedly to the side, and then back at Bilbo. "Excuse me," he said, and Bilbo nodded and waved his hand in dismissal. His back was to his cubicle entree way when the other man returned, steaming cup in hand and leaning against the half-wall. A pair of blue eyes darted over his shoulder. "Bank statements?"

"Taxes, income profiles, profit notices, that sort of thing."

By this time Bilbo had turned his chair to face Thorin, whose brow was furrowed in return. "Wouldn't that be Balin's job to sort these?"

"He's busy with that News 5 Weekly meet-up," Bilbo shrugged. He leaned back a bit when Durin leaned in to take a closer look at the papers.

"Well, these are years old!"

"Tell your nephews that." However, Baggins smiled, not wanting to get the two young men in trouble, and added, "it's fine, really. About time they get sorted out."

Thorin huffed. "They should do it themselves; they hardly do any work as is." However, it wasn't said angrily, and Bilbo blamed it on an uncle's fondness for his sister's boys. Which at the thought of that gave the intern a warm feeling in his stomach, his eyes studying Durin's sharp, handsome face, a pair of lips he'd mulled over a thousand times before.

"It's hardly a problem," Bilbo breathed, taken by their close proximity. For a moment Thorin looked at him, but all too soon he stood back up straight and licked his lips before saying, "suppose we'll be seeing each other often, then."

Not that it was a problem.

The next night, and the night after, Thorin would eventually lumber from his office, make a batch of coffee, and return to his customary place against Bilbo's cubicle wall. There they would talk, the short man in the swivel chair laboring way at the mountainous stacks of papers, and Thorin always eyeing him in a hopeful manner that the other never caught. After half a week past, their conversations faded from vibrant as they'd been at their height to slowly draining, not on Bilbo's part either. Durin seemed to grow distracted, a bit melancholy, and would retreat to his office sooner and sooner.

So of course, Bilbo would automatically begin wondering why it was happening. He'd always been fond of Thorin, but now that the other seemed to become distant he couldn't help but question why. In retrospect, however, he figured that maybe he shouldn't have spoken about his family or home for half an hour every night, or stories of his past - he was quite the open book, and Durin remained to be a man of mystery, always interested in the curly-haired man's affairs but never voicing his own.

Maybe he was talking too much. So, Baggins began to talk less, trying to draw out more information about his boss, but nothing as intimate as what Bilbo would share ever surfaced. However, what did was a familiar question: "Would you like to have a drink with me?"

"A drink," Bilbo repeated, and he froze up, taken off guard by both Thorin's sudden appearance and equally surprising question. "I, um, when?" Realizing the indecision that all but filled his voice, he added, "thank you, but I have been here all day for the past few days, and I'm not sure if that's going to change anytime soon."

"Ah. Fair enough," the other replied, and after a minute or two spent on the both of them straining to find lasting conversation, he politely excused himself and retreated into his office, where he in fact did kick himself.

* * *

 

The next day, Bilbo found himself halted at the front of the toilet door, as two voices wafted out from underneath its cracks; they were talking about something he was fairly sure involved him.

"You said it would work," Kili said.

A pair of feet began to pace the room's tiled floors. "It will, we just have to get him back up," Fili insisted, and Bilbo pressed his ear against the door and heard Kili groan in exasperation.

"Anything that will get him off of the couch - you know that when I tried to put on my show he hit me over the head with a sofa cushion? All that's ever on is the news, and that doesn't make anyone feel better." Then Kili paused, and Bilbo pressed his ear closer. "Something needs to change. We should have an intervention."

After Fili was finished chuckling, he finally replied, "either he'll just give up again and not try anymore, or he'll do something rash."

"Knowing uncle, he'll probably choose the latter."

That night, though Bilbo was half expecting it, Thorin did nothing rash or unexpected. Rather, his boss did nothing at all. No hibernating bear emerged from the bowels of his dim-lit office, no run for coffee, and no conversation, no matter how awkward they were becoming. There was only Bilbo at his desk, toes curling around the legs of his chair in anticipation, wondering when the sleepy beast might come out. At first he continued to work, his pen scribbling on the endless papers, and then he took to biting the end of his pencil until he saw the grooves he'd made on the plastic and dropped the utensil. After a while his eyes couldn't stop wandering over his shoulder, peering down the aisle that Thorin should have been walking down, steaming cup in hand and a pleasant expression on his face.

"Why not," Bilbo finally settled, realizing after half an hour that he wouldn't get any work done if he was thinking about the man who was currently burrowing himself away in the office. And yes, the intern did have the capability for feeling a bit guilty and responsible for the matter as well. The poor bloke was turned down twice, and especially after having talked so often with him, he figured that he made it seem like he was interested.

Which he was. Right? Bilbo thought he was, at least, but he was really unsure if it was a good idea to get involved with his boss, especially one he might have to talk to about quitting after he graduated. At this point Bilbo made it to the office door, all of these thoughts abuzz in his mind. When he opened it, he saw Thorin sitting at the heavy wooden desk, the man having what seemed like an intense staring battle against the laptop atop it before he looked up directly at Bilbo.

"Hi," he said, trying to not fidget at the suddenly heavy, burning gaze. "I was wondering if anything is alright?"

"Is everything alright?" Thorin asked rhetorically and he stood tall and leaned forward, palms planted on the desk. "For all the years I've known you, Bilbo, I haven't the faintest clue what you're thinking. You lead me on, and," and he paused, drawing in a breath, "and you drive me off the edge of a cliff. Bilbo Baggins, I am interested in you, very much so, and if you think that I haven't even the slightest chance with you, I'd have you tell me now."

This, of course, was a bit too much for Bilbo. With the sudden confession he was stilled, and felt like turning tail and fleeing out the door. However, he was a Baggins - he came from a very respectable family, as he'd have others know when his dignity was in question, and thus acted as such. So, straightening his back, he answered, if not stammeringly, "I - really?"

Perhaps not all that eloquent, he supposed in hindsight. But he didn't have much time to make up for it, as Thorin moved out from behind his desk and stood firmly before him, face almost closer then it had ever been. "If you don't deny me now, by god I'll kiss you."

Bilbo swallowed, and suddenly was wishing for much more than kissing. So, he said nothing, and only tilted his head up in such a way that allowed Thorin to kiss him gently, working the shape of his lips around his, until Bilbo's arms were suddenly gripped and the warm mouth against his began working furiously. Thorin's beard tickled his face, and the warmth against his lips was intoxicating, on the verge of dangerous. However, his mind cleared and Bilbo made a disapproving muffle, causing them to part, and he worked his way to the table and put his hands on it from behind him, panting. There Thorin followed him, slow and unsure. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's, it's fine, really." After looking down at the floor, a new resolve formed in his eyes, and so they rose and met blue. "Completely fine, actually."

So, the taller man approached again, and this time they worked slowly. Bilbo's eyes fixed themselves shut under the heat that was blistering in his face, but his mouth was far from radiating that embarrassed shade that was brought by the murmurs that escaped from his throat. Instead, his tongue finally managed to break through Thorin's stubborn lips, and there it tasted his mouth and ran over smooth white teeth. If Bilbo thought he was being loud with his sloppy kisses, however, his noise was quite overrun with the loud grunt that escaped Thorin's mouth. The buttons on his shirt were suddenly pulled and before he knew it, his chest was pressed against Durin's shirt and he was sitting on the table.

Before he could do anything, really, a throaty snarl sounded near his ear when Thorin suddenly pushed him down fully and stopped kissing him to focus on Bilbo's zipper. Which of course took him quite aback, and he brought his knee up and gave Thorin a firm kick on the hip. "This isn't at all fast?"

"No," the other replied plainly, and Bilbo only considered the answer before muttering alright and allowing his pants to be tugged off of him. Then his shirt was fully unbuttoned, and a soft moan escaped his parted lips when a pair of teeth found the nook of his neck. The journey down the expanse of his chest and belly was made in nibbles and a trailing tongue, and it ended near where all of his humanly heat seemed to be gathering, causing him to tilt his head back and mumble an appreciative noise.

Which in fact, ceased as soon as the press of Thorin's lips and the touch of his nose on his skin were removed, and it was replaced with an unsatisfied grumble. Bilbo rose himself up with an elbow on the table below him and watched his boss make quick work of removing his shirt and reaching into his drawers, quite in an uncoordinated, fumbled haste, before retrieving a small package.

Well, at least they stopped for something important, he mused, still capable of such sarcastic thoughts even as his eyes bore down on the length that Thorin withdrew from his trousers. It was quite a wonder as to how he'd gotten on so fast, when Bilbo was just half-hard and only faintly disheveled. But the man before him looked a wreck, his hands nearly shaking as he gave himself a few strokes and sheathed his cock in the rubber.

"Jesus," was all that Bilbo muttered, and his hand found his own member so that he could at least be somewhere near where Thorin was when he was finished digging through his desk once again, this time his hands producing hand lotion. "Is that all you have?" he found himself asking, all humor intended lost under the breathlessness of his own voice. Thorin, on the other hand, spared one look at Bilbo's hand pumping himself and seemed to suddenly lose any remaining sanity.

Uh! - and then Bilbo was down, pressed against the table with Thorin suffocation close, and he squeezed his cock with the hand between them. For a moment it was hard to breath under the ravishing mouth that engulfed his own, but he soon found air through his nose and took in large quantities as well. The world seemed to melt into a haze of Thorin and the hands that began to pool heat over his member and bottom, which was lifted and gripped with digging fingers.

Those fingers eventually slid up to the underside of Bilbo's knees and pulled him roughly forward, and the smaller man allowed his legs to loosely hug around Durin's hips. They were both flushed from arousal and lips from kissing, and from running his fingers through Thorin's hair only once it was tousled beyond repair.

All of the warnings before hadn't prepared him for when a warm hand ran off from his skin and gave the lotion a few pumps. In his hurry it knocked over, and a curse was gritted out before the thing was forgotten and suddenly Bilbo gasped at a sudden cold at his hole. Instantly he pulled his hips up and escaped it, and Thorin, trying to gather back coherency from his ragged breaths, asked, "is this okay?"

He nodded quickly and begged for his body to relax, especially when two digits were ruthlessly pressed in and something between a gasp and growl dropped from his mouth. Bilbo's hand worked fervently now, trying not to lose his hardness, but Thorin seemed to understand and began easing more gently into him until he was knuckle deep and the both of them were quivering.

The fingers pulled out and worked back into the heat, and Bilbo's head dropped again as he sighed, but after another digit was pushed in Thorin resumed his quick, impatient pace. Soon enough they were withdrawn and the smaller man flipped onto his belly on the table, and there he waited in anticipation, his toes curling into the carpet. A warm hand was placed on the small of his back, rubbing and coaxing him to relax, though when a sudden pressure was felt at his entrance he pressed his face into the nook of his elbow and tensed.

 _It's going to hurt_ was all that was going through his mind, and that made him tense even more until the pressure left and a mouth expelling fast breaths paused on his upper back to kiss the skin that rested there.

"Baggins," Thorin whispered, his voice heavy and coarse with lust, and the pair of large hands ran over his sides, the right still somewhat cool from prepping, and it made him shiver. Nothing close to Durin, though, who was practically shuddering like a leaf, his form a shaking mass of suffocating heat and lust; Bilbo wondered how long he'd thought about doing this, fantasized about it. "You're beautiful."

Bilbo tilted his head to look behind him, but found a pair of lips waiting for him once he did, so he gave them a gentle kiss. "Go on then," he said, his own voice thick.

There the pressure was again, and the hand at the small of Bilbo's back that pressed down and sent a wildfire through his body. Thorin must have slathered more lotion on his own heavy member, as there was an unpleasant cool and guiding slickness that caused the intrusion to slide bearably into him. His hand made a scramble for the edge of the table bracing himself, his face burrowed into the nook of his other arm when Thorin pulled out much too slowly. Then he sighed, but it was quite lost under the groan that Durin emitted.

The intrusion, to put it lightly, was at first uncomfortable. He felt it slide out and inch back in, not yet fully sheathed in his entrance but still deep enough to feel like he was being filled. Then he felt a warmth drape over his back, and Thorin kissed the nape of his neck, muttering listlessly into it, until suddenly he began to thrust and moan and Bilbo gasped. Immediately his hand flew back down underneath him, pulling desperately at his prick as he felt his erection begin to fade.

Thorin sighed, growled, kissed at the back of his neck still, before settling at the skin between shoulder and nape to suck. There he remained, the coarse hairs on his face tickling Bilbo's heated skin, but he was far from laughing. At one movement of his hips Thorin managed to finally brush something that set a sudden fire in his groin once more, and he let out a particularly loud breath.

The desk, before seeming unmovable by its dark bulk and heavy wood, was suddenly shaking as Bilbo was being rutted against, and he thought that the rawness of it would lose all his pleasure completely until Durin's member hit his prostate again, causing his head to jolt up. His cry rivaled the noises of his other, and Bilbo's prick swelled in his hand, nearly full and soon smearing pre-cum onto the table below.

"You like that?" the deep, breathless voice said into his shoulder, and Thorin dipped again, his hands now on either side of Bilbo, and the man beneath him gasped again and knitted his eyebrows up in through the intense feeling of pleasure that shook him. He needed more of it, he wanted to live off of this ecstasy, bask in this heat until it drowned him, and so with the help of his hand desperately clutching onto the side of the table he worked against it, moved with the pace that they held that wasn't a steady pace at all, but rather something that was impatient and holding them below a sea of rapture.

And then there was a hand. It pushed itself under him at his belly, and with an almost needy movement went down along the trail of hair that led to Bilbo's cock. There it wrapped around his erection, and Bilbo let his jaw drop in a noiseless state of relish of having two hands working at his prick.

Bilbo could tell, even with the lack of words, that Thorin was close. His curt moans had began to roll out into more long noises, deep in his throat and his chest vibrating against Bilbo's back with every long utterance of incoherent words. The language of a striking need that they both found with every slap of skin, ever sharp breath of hot air, hit an explosive note when somehow Durin managed to buckle faster, seeking the end that he desperately needed. All too soon the hand was removed from his member, and it was placed on the table, bracing against the slams.

The blonde was a writhing mess under him, trying to move against him and lift his ass for better leeway, and his hand could no longer keep up with the running tempo until Thorin slumped heavily on him and moved in the last of his shudder-ridden rocking, his mouth open without a sound falling from it.

Yet, Bilbo had not yet found his well coveted end, and only felt dissatisfaction when after a long moment of catching breaths Thorin pulled out and he was suddenly empty. Then he was nudged onto his back, his erection still upright and flushed with coursing blood, and Durin knelt between his hanging legs and kissed his knee. Bilbo, however, was in much more of a hurry, so after the dark-haired man pulled off the condom and tossed it in the bin next to his desk, he gripped onto those curly locks and pushed his boss's mouth closer to where he needed it.

Thorin's nose bumped against his cock, and the mere sensation of something other than his hands being there nearly made Bilbo jump. "Please," he breathed, his chest rising and falling, fingers gripping the side of the table, and a guttural groan escaped him when a tongue ran over his base.

From there it ran up over his length, and a pair of thin lips momentarily cased the top of his head, clearing away the pre-cum by the swish of a tongue. Bilbo's grip on Thorin's hair grew increasingly tighter, and he didn't bother to loosen when those blue eyes flickered by a sudden bout of wetness that rose just in the corners of his eyelids. He could tell, too, as that gaze was firmly locked with his, even when that mouth sank down and kissed the loose skin beneath his member that hung two fruits and took one in, sucking it like a slice of succulent orange.

Brown eyes began to slit, not closing lest their contact broke with the one below him, but after a few moments his grip tightened again with impatience, so the warmth at his sac ceased and was left as cool from the moisture that stayed. Thorin's mouth engulfed the entirely of Bilbo's head, and there it stayed for the sake of a still adjusting jaw before moving down inch by inch, slowly and carefully.

In any other situation Bilbo may have not done so, but he figured that after being fucked ruthlessly over a table he deserved as much, so he suddenly bucked his hips up and tilted Thorin's head down. The other man's nose was barely touching his skin, since Bilbo after all didn't want to cause him to choke, but it was just enough warmth at an already fiery part of his body for him to moan whorishly and roll his hips more.

Somehow, though tears had sprung up in Durin's eyes - it was a face guess to assume that he'd never sucked another man before - he was doing well, and only had made a small hmmph noise at the unexpected jolt, but took it in stride. His locked eyes remained unbroken, and it nearly send shivers down Bilbo's body, make him feel all sorts of levels more exposed than even when he was being taken.

"Thorin," he whispered hoarsely, and gritted when the man dared to go down fully.

His long nose was now fully pressed against his base, and those blue eyes screwed shut when his throat revolted in a gag, but there was a furrow in his brow that spoke as determined. Thorin stayed there for a moment, and when he winced his reddened eyes open again to look at Bilbo again the smaller man nearly released there, no further touch needed. However, he braced himself, held himself against a now terribly close orgasm, and loosened his grip on the hair in his fist when Durin began to move, each time making Bilbo's head brush the back of his throat when he came back down.

Not wanting to hurt Thorin, Bilbo first began to move slowly, only with the pace that the other had set. However, the heat churning there was beginning to boil over, warning at a close release, and he lost control for a moment and moved his hips faster. The mouth stopped moving, and only stayed open so that Bilbo could thrust into it, but when the man uttered close Thorin pulled back with a small pop and began pulling with his own hand.

The end came not moments after, Baggins hanging his head and finding himself lost in a pair of deep blue eyes, and his mouth fixed open for a series of moans to run out as he moved his hips so that he could screw Thorin's hand. Then, he shut his eyes, brow creased in pleasure, and beads of pearly white sputtered and clung to the side of the brunette's face.

After a few more slow strokes Bilbo's member was placid and sated, and Thorin wiped the cum off his cheek before clasping his hands around his other's neck to crane him down. Then he tilted his head, and Bilbo met his lips with his own. It might have lasted much longer than it did, but after leaning a little too far the man on the table slipped off and landed squarely in Durin's lap.

"Oof!" he gasped, and then laughed, ignoring his sore bottom. Thorin grinned too, and gave him a peck on the lips once more, more playfully than the slow workings that they'd grown before.

"So," Bilbo said, and he placed a hand on Durin's chest, his thumb moving about the hairs that lay there. Thorin rose a brow questioningly, but his smile remained - he was absolutely beaming beyond anything that the intern had ever seen in his six years of working at the office. "You were only out for my body this whole time?" His voice was hoarse, but playful all the same.

That rose a small bubble of mirth from his boss, and big hands clamped over his shoulders, pressed him against the side of the desk for another kiss. "No, just to take you to tea."

Then Bilbo sighed, his body warming pleasantly as his bare skin pressed on Thorin's, and he leaned into a pair of arms that wrapped loosely around his torso. "If I knew that tea would have been this good, I think I would have taken up your offer much sooner."

"So, you were just after my body this whole time?" Thorin now asked, and Bilbo, despite the ridiculous of it, giggled.

"Maybe; who's to say that I was, or wasn't?"

The exchange went on for many minutes after, the both of them on the floor, until they finally lumbered on to clean up, holding hands and the both of them laughing foolishly when the nonsensical banter continued.

* * *

Bilbo shifted in his chair the next day, still trying to find comfort through the lingering ache that riddled his bottom. There were dark shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep, but his smile was radiating pleasantly, and it had done so through the whole day. Thorin hadn't dropped by in his cubicle yet, but for some reason he felt like he'd be seeing a lot of the man later on in the evening when everyone else was home.

"Hey!" Fili called, with Kili trailing after, and they both leaned against his cubicle wall, their faces strangely fixed in a way of one that is trying not to smile, or laugh, even.

"I finally found some time to do those," Kili remarked, gesturing to the still massive pile of paperwork, and Bilbo looked at it and the two brothers and knew. It was them. He wasn't sure whether to scold them or not mention it, but either way they obviously knew that they had achieved what they set out to do.

"No, it's fine," Bilbo replied, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He regarded them knowingly, but his voice gave nothing away other than indifferent. With a shrug, he added, "I don't mind it all that much."

Kili grinned, and shrugged back in defeat before parting, but Fili lingered. Bilbo rose his eyebrows when the young man appeared to seem hesitant - and that was a very strange thing indeed, as neither of the two were ever that - but it passed and he finally settled on a smile. "He's very happy, you know."

The shaggy-haired man looked down and smiled back, his fingers tapping his arms. "I'd hope so."

"I'm glad," Fili continued. Then, after glancing at the stack, he almost jumped. "Ah! Also, you don't really have to do those." With a sheepish smirk, "Balin already put all of that stuff in the computers. See you around then, Bilbo!" And then he left, barely escaping a suddenly fuming intern.

"Of all things," Bilbo grunted, and continued to grumble about the audacity of the pair, making him to all of that work for nothing. Privately though, he didn't really mind.


End file.
